


Broken

by Henndra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6975910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Henndra/pseuds/Henndra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obligatory Veela fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drarrysgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarrysgirl/gifts), [Sprout2012](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sprout2012/gifts).



Harry hadn’t meant to intrude, he had been worried. He’d knocked very clearly, several times and Draco had only just come back from dinner; he couldn’t possibly asleep already.

So when he pushed Draco’s room door open and found his colleague in the process of changing he hadn’t noticed at first.

Malfoy had been in a mood since dinner, though when Harry thought about it long enough he was always in a mood and had been ever since he’d joined the staff here at Hogwarts. Tonight though, he felt as though maybe it was all his fault this time, like maybe he’d pushed the limits too far. 

“Dra-co.” He’d began at a panicked half-shout, losing his nerve as he came face to face with a stricken Draco Malfoy.

He was gleaming in the half-light the fireplace provided, he barely noticed Harry, his grey eyes turning away as quickly as they’d spared a glance for him. That was when he saw them, the broken things, jutting from Malfoy’s back like mangled bone or sawed off deer antlers. 

“Draco!” He reaffirmed.

“Now you know why,” was all Draco said in return, refusing to meet his eye, fiddling with his shirt folds over the table beside him.

“What?”

Malfoy snorted, “I’m a Veela, Potter. My heart wasn’t meant for you.”

His words stung and ashamed him, he wasn’t aware he’d been so transparent in his affections. Gathering his courage he stepped further into the rooms, to demand the answers to all he didn’t quite understand. “What happened to them?” He asks instead, because he realizes now that the broken masses upon Draco’s back should have been his wing bone.

“They broke.”

“How?”

Malfoy snorted again, “Granger is right, you really don’t research that much of anything do you?”

“I’m sorry, we haven’t exactly gotten to expansive theories on combatting dark creatures yet! Maybe I should have you over with the six years next week yeah? Give them a fucking seminar!” Harry snapped and really, he shouldn’t have mentioned it. He was frustrated that’s all.

If Draco had been hurt he hid it well and turned back around away from him, unbuckling his belt and placing it upon the table to join his shirt. “I think it’s time you left.”

“How did they break, Malfoy? Tell me.”

“Malfoy is it now? What happened to Draco? Draco this, Draco that? Draco will you join me for a pint at Hogsmeade?” Malfoy was teasing him now, but Harry knew better than that, he was deflecting, he was pushing him away and he needed to know why.

“Tell me, and I’ll leave.” He grit out through his teeth, “If that’s what you want.”

Draco faltered, his eyebrows softened but only for a moment, he nearly missed it entirely.

“A Veela loses their wings, after their soulmate dies.” He spoke softly into his hands, as if studying the way his fingers wove between each other. 

“Draco!-” He sighed, his insides panging with both loss and guilt. “When? Who were they?”

“It doesn’t matter Potter. The fact remains is that I’ll never love another the way I could have loved them. This thing you’re pursuing won’t end well.” 

“Says who? Is this another Veela thing? Will you try bite my head off or something?” Draco almost smiled but didn’t. “Well actually, you’ve done that almost every morning since I started here.”

At this he did smile but didn’t dare look Harry in the eye.

“Are you afraid of hurting me? Or of hurting yourself?” Harry stepped closer to him now, “Are you worried I won’t be enough for you? That no one will? Or is it tainting the memory of the one you loved?”

“That’s not!” Draco flinches and pulls away, “It’s not like that! I didn’t-!”  
“Didn’t what?” He asks kindly.

“I never met them, I never found out who they were.” Draco admits to Harry’s confusion. “I came into my inheritance shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts. When my wings finally tore free of their magical confines they were already broken. I have no idea-”  
Harry didn’t know what to say and Malfoy didn’t know how to finish, leaving an unbearable silence overcome them.

Harry broke with, “Have you tried figuring it out?”

“What?”

“I mean, surely there is a list somewhere of all who died that night. Couldn’t you go through it, maybe I don’t know get a feel for each one, see if anything pops out at you?”

Malfoy gave him an incredulous look, “Firstly. I don’t even know if they died that night to begin with. It’s just an assumption. Secondly, they may have died somewhere else completely. Maybe even on the other side of the world for all I know!”

Harry stood rigid by Draco’s side, gaping for answers like a goldfish.

“Lastly, why would you help me?” Draco stepped only fraction closer but it was all Harry needed to suddenly burn up by proximity. The nearness of Draco’s half naked body, strong and formed in all its glory.   
“I-I care about you. Draco. Coming here, taking up the Defense position, it was a selfish whim of mine but it brought me back here and back to you and everything fell away, or rather, fell into place. You’ve always held my attention Draco, I’ve always been bothered by your opinion of me, except now… It’s for entirely different reasons. So- I guess. I mean, you think you could never love like that but regardless of how you feel… I guess maybe I could fall in love with you.”

It was out there, and Harry had said it, it had slipped off his tongue so easily he was nibbling at it’s end as if to try to win some of the words back. He couldn’t look up at Malfoy, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to look the Potions Master in the eye again but then he was being held, folded into Draco’s abled arms and rocked into, his lips stolen and his words lost. The hot press of Draco’s mouth overwhelming his, impressing upon his a great and desperate need. Before Harry could answer with his own they were torn for him once more, and his lips were once more, cold.

“What was-?”

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Draco blinked, trying to school his features.

“Why n-”

“If it would be anyone Potter, I wish it were someone as stubborn and persevering as you. But I can’t do that. Not just to myself but to you. So, I’ve told you now, and I’d like for you to leave.” Draco, panting, gave the slightest of nudges. His arms barricading Harry into his embrace a second ago, now an arms width of breadth away from him. 

Too stunned to think, or speak, Harry did as told for the first time in his life (probably) and left as he came and returned to his own rooms.


	2. Chapter 2

When Neville had reintroduced Harry to Draco over lunch at the Three Broomsticks, Harry almost thought the world had gone mad. But when he’d left not two hours later, he thought maybe he had gone mad instead.

Malfoy was different but he was exactly the same. He was just as pointy as he’d ever been but at all different angles. He was witty and snippy but his snark held a certain comedic wit. Where he had tormented Neville in school he now only sang his praises, past the point where Neville’s ears flushed red at the attention. 

“It’s true! All my seventh years want to get inside your pants! Hottest thing to be unearthed from the Greenhouses, they say!” Draco had cried at one jovial moment, almost making Harry spit up his drink.

He’d been ready for a fight that day and had walked back up to the castle with a bit of  a crush.

 

“Morning Harry.” Neville Longbottom smiled over breakfast, clearly ignoring the empty chair between them.

“Morning,” he smiled back, hoping stupidly that somehow Neville would know all about the kiss, that he’d see it imprinted on his lips or something and ask him all about it. He needed to talk to someone, anyone, about it. He was going mental with thought, slept barely a wink the night before.

“How’s your day looking? I’ve got Mandrakes in Greenhouse 1 that are itching to be repotted!” 

Harry grimaced in return, his own memories resurfacing momentarily. “First years today mostly. Then sixth years working revision most of the day.”

“Quiet one then?” Neville smiled with confident ease before slipping a sliver of sausage into his mouth.

“You have obviously never taught first years how to cast a shielding charm before.” Harry groaned and eased back into his seat to return to his toast.

“Longbottom. Potter.” Draco finally made it to the teachers table. One quick look from him proved to Harry one thing. Malfoy was going to act as if nothing had ever happened. 

 

The first year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs worked rather well together, silently practising, going around the room to show off their skill. They were loud and gave Harry a headache but were nothing compared to the first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws who were to follow, who seemed to take more interest in boasting about their skill at each other, flourishing their wands too much and over-extending. Cody Brockthorn managed to cast a full corporeal shield only to have it knock over a group of Ravenclaw girls who had huddled together in a pack. All hell broke lose after that really.

“Don’t even ask mate, you don’t want to know and really it’d exhaust me to explain it.” Harry huffed as he sat down to lunch. 

Neville who had crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into his chair a bit, sniggered at him, mercilessly. It wasn’t until he nearly fell back entirely off his chair that he stopped and by then Malfoy had arrived to the table.

“If I have to listen to Margaret Mackenzie tell Hannah Abernathy how thick Professor Longbottom’s arms look one more time I may have to hex myself in the head.” Draco slung back into his chair with equal exasperation as Harry.

Neville whom had momentarily recovered was lost in a sea of muffled chuckles once more, “Sorry mate. No idea what you’re on about really.”

Draco and Harry shared a knowing glance over their mutual friend. Only a second later drawing back from it is as if remembering last night.

‘So he does remember.’ Harry thought to himself.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have fifth years to go set up for.” Malfoy suddenly rose, before either Neville or himself could point out that he hadn’t eaten anything at all.

“What did you do?” Neville demanded minutes later.

“What? Nothing!”

“He’s a mood bastard but something different, what happened between you two?”

“Nothing!” Harry cried, stuffing a sandwich into his mouth.

“Harry you’ve always been a bad liar.” Neville prodded, reaching over his head in a stretch, leaning back into his chair once more. “Is it something to with how you’ve been mooning over him then?”

Harry nearly choked on a tomato slice.

“Really Harry?” Neville half laughed at him before returning to his quiche and salad.

 

The sixth years were terribly dull and Harry’s mind often flittered back to thoughts of Draco and their kiss, or Draco’s kiss because thinking back on it Harry wasn’t sure he did much of anything in that brief moment their lips finally touched. 

“Professor? Can you check my answers for this one please?” Angie asked, arm shot up higher than Hermione’s used to. 

Harry nodded a yes, and had her bring up her parchments, flittering quickly across the pages, blocking out all thoughts of blonde haired men and taught bodies, littered with lightly etched sectumsempra scars.

“Fuck!” He swore, quite loudly. The whole class erupting into giggles. Angie, who’s mock exam he was still grading seemed to turn as white as a ghost with her eyes as wide as galleons. Fuck indeed!

 

“What the fuck are you doing here Potter?” Draco answered the door.

“You weren’t at dinner!” Harry said in answer, pushing past Malfoy to step into his living quarters. 

Draco was thankfully clothed and indulging in a few fingers of Firewhiskey if the tumbler sitting by the fireside was to be noted. 

“I didn’t feel up to all the noise and chatter.”  
“You didn’t eat at lunch!” Harry spun on his heel to face him.

“What are you my mother now?” Draco snapped back, meeting him a step closer.

“Your scars.” Harry spoke lowly, addressing the real reason for his intrusion. “It didn’t register yesterday I was more, distracted by other things, but- they’re from that day aren’t they? Sixth year in the bathrooms.”

Draco swallowed harshly, as if daring Harry to bring it up.

“I thought Snape healed those!” Harry shouted.

“Yes well, as he so indulged me to know, as that particular spells creator he intended it to be very lasting!” Draco yelled back, inches away from Harry now. “He did what he could but you can’t heal scars cause by dark magic! You of all people should know!” Draco made a point to glance up at his forehead.

Harry swallowed thickly, not sure whether he wanted to be sick or weep a little, “I never intended…”  
“WHAT? WHAT IS IT POTTER? WHAT WAS THAT?” Draco yelled, throwing his arms about Harry’s face. “NEVER INTENDED ME TO LIVE? NEVER INTENDED MY DEATH? WHAT?”

“I would never- I didn’t know what it would do! All I knew was it was a spell for enemies. I should have known…” Harry whispered meekly.

“Should have known you weren’t up for murder?!” Draco spat so close now, he was peppered with the spray of it.

Harry took a breath to calm himself, knowing it would do neither of them any good to break down now, “I should have known that you shouldn’t have been my enemy at all. The war. It was pointless. One man’s thirst for power. Look how much we all lost. The sides we drew, the things we all did. The point is, I found you crying in the third floor bathroom and should have helped you. I should have never drew my wand.”

Malfoy seemed speechless for a while, his nose hovering millimetres from Harry’s own.

“You can’t keep doing this.” He whispered, looking down at Harry’s mouth warily. “You can’t keep saying things like this, saying all the right things one’s meant to say. We should have stayed enemies. It would have been easier on you…” The press of their lips was so minute Harry wasn’t even sure it’d really happened, all too soon Draco was drawing away from him and returning to his fireside. Drinking his Firewhiskey in one full breath.

Suppressing his rising anger, Harry left. 


	3. Chapter 3

They were about three shots into Neville’s Homebrewed Gillyroot Liquor, when with a shot, the man himself was out the door, wand in hand on his way to fix some great herbology emergency with a string of girls wobbling behind him.

“Professor please! We were only trying to check on our seedlings!” They cried, blubbering after him.

This left the moderately tipsy Draco and Harry left to drink their fourth shot together through a fit of sniggering giggles.

“Cut the head off of one snake and you become instant heartthrob,” Harry sighed into his cup.

“Yes, well that and start rebuilding greenhouses in ungodly tight clothes and I’m sure you too could one day achieve the level of godliness that our dear Longbottom has.”

Harry laughs so hard he snorts, and Draco, because he has been Draco for some time now scrunches his nose in unguarded amusement.

“Oh don’t worry Potter, back in your day your gaggle of girls were just as nonsensically nonsensical!” Draco smirks before lining up their glasses for another round.

Malfoy catches himself on his wording and crinkles his nose up once more before both he and Harry start snickering once more. 

Harry feels more drunk than he should be, and he knows it’s because he’s an arms reach from Draco, because for the first time since he started up at Hogwarts Draco is smiling at him.

  
  


Draco isn’t smiling now, in fact since their last kiss they haven’t  spoken at all. He’s been holed up in his rooms under the pretense that he is sick, leaving his chambers only to teach his classes. Harry’s a little shell shocked to find him standing around in Hogsmeade but is quick to anger. Especially after a quickly nodded, “Potter.”

Harry snorts and twirls on his heel to watch Malfoy’s retreating form. “All stocked up Pepper Up then? Or is it Dragon Pox? I hear that’s the worst! Must be something real bad if you can’t brew the tonics yourself!”

He waits a beat as Draco processes.

“Or, maybe you just fancied a bit of fresh air? Being covered in your bullshit all day must get nauseating on the senses!” Harry spat and Draco had the audacity to let his features drop into a soft smirk momentarily. “Don’t laugh at me Malfoy, what are you so fucking afraid of? Fine. Your mates dead. That means what? We aren’t soulmates? So what? What are you so fucking afraid of? Living?!”

Malfoy stopped dead, his hands falling out his robe pockets, his expression broken. “Potter, you don’t understand a damn thing..” He whispers and for a moment Harry’s almost sorry.  
“NO! MAYBE I DON’T! OR! -Or maybe I know exactly who are you after all this time! A coward! Too afraid to-!”

“SHUT UP! POTTER SHUT UP!” Draco interjects suddenly so close, his movements broken. Harry walks away with the strangest impression that had they not been broken, Draco’s wings would have been roused in fighting anger.

 

At the end of the day, after Hogsmeade duty, after every last student had returned to Hogwarts and been checked off his list, Harry was free to return to his rooms. 

He stepped under his showerhead and let the hot water ease the tension that had been built up in his shoulders all day. He was cold and miserable and it was there he suddenly regretted everything he had said to Draco earlier.

Malfoy wasn’t a coward, Harry knew that, admired him even for his tenacity even. And now, he could lose the fragile friendship they’d cultivated over the course the year. Harry was a fucking idiot, he knew. Neville would tear his ears a new one once he found out. 

There was a knock at the door as was toweling off, expecting Neville to collect him for their usual Saturday night drinks at Hog's Head he called out, “Come in.”

However it was Malfoy not Neville, which really didn’t surprise him all that much.

“Nev send you?” Harry asked, fully aware that he was wearing only a towel around his waist.

Draco closed the door shut behind him, holding backwards onto it briefly for support. “I came to explain. I think. I should. I mean, I’ve upset you and you should at least know why.”

Harry nodded, trying to shake the water from his ears. He offered Draco a seat, which he refused.

“I’m a veela, Harry.” Draco’s almost pleaded tone, tearing new wounds into Harry’s heart. “You don’t know what that means. My soulmate, was predestined. I was predestined.”

“Anyway, look. You might -want me. And to some extend, I mean to say that if, that feeling were reciprocated. It wouldn’t be the same. If you are looking for sex, I mean to some extent I am sure it would be fine. I mean, maybe I’m not sure. I don’t. What I’m struggling to say is, that if you are looking for more, if you are looking for more with me, you won’t get it, not the fullest extent. Even if I were to love you. It would never be to the fullest of loves. I would never love you the way I would have loved them. And that wouldn’t be fair on you.”

Harry’s guts turned as if his very stomach lining threatened to eat him inside out, “Right. So what’s this then, you’re protecting me or something? From what? You hurting my feelings?” He snorted for effect, “I think I can keep my own feelings in check Malfoy.” He ground out with the edge of his teeth, making to turn for his wardrobe before realizing he couldn’t exactly change in front of Malfoy just yet. 

“Oh!” Something changed in Draco at the sound, “So you don’t. You were after, I mean.”

“Sex?” Harry supplied.

“Oh, right. Well then.” Draco stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, his mouth tight lipped, his face duller in this light.

“And I guess sex with me is just beneath you?” Harry snapped, stepping closer to Draco once more, ready for another round of arguing.

“N-no. I just, I thought you were…. I just figured you to be the kind who was after something else. I guess.” Draco looked down at Harry’s lips a total of three times as he stepped closer, edging closer. “Something more.”

Harry’s chest hurt at the truth of it. He wanted Draco, he wanted all of him, he wanted his easy laughter and his friendship. He wanted to go to bed at night and not wonder what Malfoy was doing in a different part of the castle. He wanted to wake up to a bed of long limbs and white blonde hair. So he reached for all that he could have in the moment and lied his arse off, “And if I ask for something simpler? Surely Veela’s are adept at fucking?”

Draco sucked in air through his teeth and heat rose over his face, Harry caught the exact moment Draco decided to kiss him and quite loudly thought, “Oh fuck that!” Before snagging the tufts of Malfoy’s hair and pulling him down into a long and bruising kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Harry’s mouth was on his own he forget everything else, the ache in his chest, the hurt in his heart. His very breath rose into the kiss and he tore off the damn towel that had been teasing him with its very existence as soon as Draco had entered Potter’s chambers.

Harry kissed fervently, passionately, eagerly. He was half hard against him already, reminding Draco exactly what this was. A fuck.  _ ‘ Surely Veela’s are adept at fucking?’ _ He’d said and it seemed, meant it.

Draco growled into the next kiss, pressing his hip bones against Harry’s, fuck him, if this was all he’d get to have he’d take it for all he could, till Harry was so aching with need he’d fuck no one else ever again.  _ “What?” _  He thought.

“Potter. Bed.” He said instead, and pushed at Harry’s bare ankles forcing them both to move. 

Harry was a fluster of quick hands, stripping Draco long before they reached the bed located within the adjoining rooms. 

When they reached the bed, Harry stood back from him either admiring him or expecting something more from him, Draco couldn’t decipher. 

“My room’s bigger.” Draco said stupidly, earning the first smile from Harry in what felt like weeks, his bones ached with the resonance of that smile and he pushed Potter backward onto the bed, gripping his neck loosely to find Harry’s mouth once more.

Draco could get lost in Harry’s embrace, his hands running up and down his own back, the heat of Harry’s touch addictive. Draco pushed Harry back into the mattress, leading with his kisses, never leaving that delectable mouth.

“Draco.” Harry cried softly.

Together, seamlessly they arranged themselves, Harry’s calves reaching up around Draco’s middle the same time Draco shuffled his own knees closer to Harry’s hips. Leaning down and over him, Draco ran his kisses down Harry’s neck, loosing himself on the feel of his skin. 

_ “How many men have you taken to bed?” _ He thought, a little too late did he realize outloud.

“What?!”

“I mean, I just, have you done this before or do I need to-” Draco recovered quickly, using his elbow to lift up and watch Harry up close. He never got to look at him this close.

“OH! I’m fine, yep, I have lube in the left nightstand there. Top drawer.” 

Draco retrieved the lube with a possessive growl and tossed it to empty side of the bed, returning the the side of Harry’s neck, making him cry out as he ravaged down the sinew of his neck and bite at the crux of his collarbone, lapping at the soft skin there.

“Oh god!” Was all Harry could murmur as Draco traversed down his body, suckling at his nipple, twirling around its peak, biting at the flesh a little as Harry thrashed about and arched off the bed.

He gripped Potter’s hips with the flat of his palms and pushed him down, almost painfully so to hold him in place. His open mouth abandoned the nubs of Harry’s nipples to skate down the planes of his stomach, reaching the dip of his hips he placed soft kisses all along them, hiding his meaning, disguising it for foreplay. 

-If everything were different... If he weren’t a Veela... If his mate wasn’t dead...-

He tongued at Harry’s cock without restraint and let his hands trail up to those nipples once more tweaking them punishingly, eliciting unadulterated moans.

Harry seemed feverish with want, his hard length an angry red, jutting up to meet Draco’s jaw as he at last swallowed him down into his mouth. Harry spread his legs immediately, carefreely in the air, clutching at Draco’s head, forcing himself down Draco’s throat.

Draco obediently took him having no gag reflex.

He’s pictured it in his mind so many times, he’d planned it out sometimes too, the fantasies so practised that the lube was quickly fumbled back into his hands, his fingers coated and questing for Harry’s furrowed heat. 

Harry’s voice crested eagerly in his throat at Draco’s intrusion, so without hesitation he began working Harry’s eager ass.

Draco tried to ignore the jealousy that spiked him as Harry lifted his hips to minutely fuck himself on Draco's hands. Ignored the way he wondered how many others he had been so desperate for. 

Draco let go of Harry's cock with a pop as he scissored a third finger in. Letting him feel the burn of it, the stretch. Watching as Harry revealed in the ache, sank deep into his seating, his whole body relaxed.

“God. Fuck me Draco please. I need you so much. My whole body aches for it.”

Draco’s broken heart wanted to call Potter a slut for it, for spreading his legs for him so easily without bargaining for more. The truer part of him knew he had asked for this and the part of him that loved Harry could never do anything so abhorrent. So instead he removed his fingers and reached for Harry's ribcage like a prized possession and eased him up until they were face to face, inches away from a single kiss that never came. 

Harry's breath was laboured against Draco’s cheek his body flushed head to toe with arousal, warm in his hands, Draco held him in his lap with one hand, coating his own erection with lubricant via the other.

Draco couldn't take his eyes off Harry's and the moment hung suspended in the air.

He watched Harry's lashes flutter closed like the soft wings of a butterflies as he sank down upon his length. The broken fragments of his wingbones ached.

Harry arched his neck barely breathing, his dark lashes, his kiss stained lips all contrast in the lowlight of the room.

And then he moved and it was like their lungs were being filled once more with life. Harry slammed back down hard and the feel of it vibrated through his bones.

Draco pulled at the rump of Potter’s arse greedy for more, he ran his hand up and down his spine as he moved unsure of where to keep them settled.

Draco was lost. 

He buried his face in the mess of Harry's hair and focused on meeting Harry's movements, overwhelmed he struggled to keep his emotions in check and Harry tore at the side of his back with his nails.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-” seemed to be his mantra as he brutally impaled himself on Draco's cock.

Draco strained for purchase, leaning back flexing his thighs, thrusting up desperately, Harry's yelling cries became ragged and messy intelligible and loud. So loud all Draco could hear was Harry's anguished cries for oblivion. It was all he'd hear for a long time.

Draco's body was taught with pleasure, burning himself alive with it. Harry rode on tirelessly, fucking him deeper and faster, so fast the sound of the bodies slapping into each other was intoxicatingly pornographic. 

Harry’s come flushed between them without warning and his whole body seized within Draco's embrace. Yet still Harry fucked down onto him, taking Draco's shaft within himself until with a bruising kiss and a soundless shout Draco came violently. 

Entwined they didn't moves through panted breathes their mouths groped for lazy kisses their bodies painted with sweat. Draco breathed in the moment; sweat and sex and come. He wanted to burned every detail into his retinas. He never wanted to forget Harry's sated face, his dark brows lax without care.

He kissed Harry properly pushing them back into the mattress weighing Potter down by the wrists, which he held above his head. 

He felt Harry's own tongue explore his mouth, the sensual pleasure erotic in its own right. Losing another piece of himself, he left his mouth be claimed.

  
  


He woke up sticky a few hours later in Harry's bed. He rose featherlight and headed blindly in search of Harry's bathroom desperate for a shower. The whole castle was silent aside from the soft snores coming from Harry’s side of the covers.

Draco found his wand on the floor, with his abandoned trousers, almost tripped over it actually and used it to light the abandoned sitting room. 

He found the bathroom and stepped immediately for the showers, setting up the faucets for the perfect temperature when something caught his eye. A shadow. 

Draco searched the room almost dismissing his paranoia until he reached the mirror (who told him how lovely he looked post shag).

His whole body froze. His blood ran cold. In the mirror just over his shoulder was the smallest tuft of baby feathers, pristine and white and further back behind him was a naked Potter who looked on at him with awe.

“Your wings. They-” Harry very obviously waited for some explanation but Draco couldn't find the words.

“I don't understand. This has never. There are no records of wings growing back. Never. It's just not-!” Draco felt the thrall of alluring hope and hysteria simmer through his veins as he clutched at the bathroom vanity for support. His mind racing.

“I don't suppose!?” Harry spoke suddenly, standing exactly where he was as if with caution. “I never told you about the time I died and came back to life, did I?” 

Ignoring Draco's rising confusion he pressed on.

“Ministry kept it out of the papers of course, you know with the accidental horcrux and all but I did die during-”

“-the Battle of Hogwarts.” They both finished.

Draco couldn't think. He couldn’t breath and after a moment more he couldn’t stand but thankfully Harry caught him bringing Draco across the tiles to rest in his lap. 

Draco finally broke. After all those years after the war. After all these conflicted months at Potter’s side, he broke. Hot tears streaming down his face

“Well thank fuck.” Harry exhales wobbly, holding onto Draco tighter, so much tighter it hurt.

_ ‘Harry.” _


End file.
